


Move In, Move On

by altilis



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bloodplay, Community: kink_bingo, Confined/Caged, Leather Kink, M/M, Vehicles, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altilis/pseuds/altilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirror. Spock is emperor. Kirk is his prisoner. Adjustment can be difficult. Five small scenes, stand-alone but loosely connected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confined/Caged

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : Communal card [here](http://autumnfox.akrasiac.org/kbingo/2011/cardset3-1.jpg). Prompts: confined/caged (wildcard), whipping/flogging, bloodplay, vehicular, leather/latex/rubber.

The brig cell is cold, half-lit, hard corners and alloy steel. After three lonely days, Jim starts to think the walls are closing in, so he stretches out on the floor with his eyes closed.

Then Spock visits, alone.

They watch each other through the barrier, quiet, until Jim moves to stand across from him. “How long do you want me here?”

“Possibly a lifetime.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“It’s the optimum place for slaves and animals, as you said.”

“C’mon, Spock—”

“Would you rather have an iron cage too small for you to stand? That can be arranged.”


	2. Whipping/Flogging

The Emperor’s Vulcan whip _bites_ at Jim’s back, drawing thin lines of blood, and Jim fights to keep silent. After a ten minute warm-up, that’s not going to last.

A lash lands between his shoulder blades. “Count.”

Jim chuckles, flexing his hands over the chair’s wooden back. “Is that what your dad said when he’d do this?” It’s worth a shot.

 _Crack!_ The next lash cuts across his back, and Jim cries out. As he shakes, fights to breathe, Spock drops the coiled whip on the table in front of him. Though still light-headed, Jim grins. It’s a small victory.


	3. Bloodplay

They fight like animals in ‘private’.

Jim finds Spock and his bad mood in the palace gardens. He forgets what he says, but he puts a hand on Spock’s shoulder, and he’s on the ground with a bloodied nose.

He hits back (like always), and soon they are wrestling on the grass, teeth and nails. Blood drips from Spock’s broken lip; it wells along the deep scratches on Jim’s arm; best of all, it stains Spock’s clean white shirt, red and blood mingling in ugly blotches.

When Spock pins him into the grass, their hands slide together, sticky and hot.


	4. Vehicular

He’d fought so much with, for, against, and inside of her, that just being here made his blood run hot with adrenaline. Jim found a Jefferies tube the first chance he got—for the privacy, the plasma hum, the sound of what was once his.

“Jim?” Spock found the open hatch.

“What do you want, Your Imperial Highness?” He doesn’t look at Spock, who doesn’t answer. Maybe he should, just to see Spock crawl over in his pressed uniform.

Spock sits next to him, knees up like Jim’s, and Jim fists his hands.

“She’s yours.”

“Incorrect. The _Enterprise_ is ours.”


	5. Leather/Latex/Rubber

He loves the captain’s chair. The scent of the leather is subtle. The cushions mold to his body just so. The arm rests, also leather, feel smooth under his fingertips, and he can hear the faint scrape of his hair against the high back.

Jim remembers when it was his seat of power on his ship. He relishes the moment in this rare moment of solitude, until a hand slides over his neck. Bare fingers press against his pulse, while a leather-covered palm presses against his windpipe. Jim breathes deep.

“Are you done?” Spock asks.

“Yeah.” He won’t say thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> [Also at Dreamwidth.](http://altilis.dreamwidth.org/31484.html)


End file.
